


Heart Is A Foreigner

by bedbugswrite



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: AU, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-10 18:56:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4403357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bedbugswrite/pseuds/bedbugswrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Maya wanted to do was get home, so she could watch the DVR recorded episodes of America’s Next Top Model snuggled up next to her best friend. </p><p>Instead she got horrible news and even worse coffee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heart Is A Foreigner

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this post: http://cosenangel.tumblr.com/post/93103760473  
> 'stuck-in-an-airport-because-the-flights-were-SO-VERY-delayed-and-it's-like-two-am AU'

All Maya wanted to do was get home, so she could watch the DVR recorded episodes of America’s Next Top Model snuggled up next to her best friend. 

Instead she got horrible coffee and even worse news.

“All flights to New York are delayed. They’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and are not taking any chances. I will make an announcement over the pa when other options available.” The lady not even looking up from her computer, too busy typing away to notice the murder glare she was sending her.

Maya huffed, returning to her seat with her mismatched turquoise and yellow suitcases, a parting gift from Shawn after she had announced her trip.  
Maya had spent all of senior year working, late afternoons till early mornings. When she wasn’t working, she was at school, learning and sleeping in her frees, never so determined about anything. One of her art teachers had amazing stories about the places she had traveled, but the place that stuck out the most was New Zealand. The stories she’d heard about New Zealand inspired her, she wanted sand and mountains and volcanoes and got exactly what she wanted: enough artwork to generously fill her portfolio, a million photos to show everyone when she got back and an experience she would never forget. 

Now if only could get _home_ to tell these stories, it would be great.

Deciding on coffee for the no doubt long night ahead, she bumped into a tall stranger on the way.

“Watch where you’re going!”

“Sorry Ma'am.” Both came out at once, the boy’s accent almost southern enough to distract her from being called Ma'am. _Almost._  
“God, what am I? Fifty?” She rolled her eyes, only to be met with mint green eyes, one of her favorite colors to work with.

“Sorry. I’m Lucas, and you are?” Lucas held out a hand, professional in way that didn’t quite fit the situation, her in sweatpants and a tie dye shirt with a cat on the front and him, appearing as if he’d came straight from a photo shoot, tight jeans and cashmere sweater.

“Maya. Do you call everyone you bump into Ma'am?”

“Only the pretty ones.” She moved foreword, hitting enough buttons on the coffee machine for it too roar to life, trying to hide her smile at the compliment.   
“Where are you going?” Lucas asked from behind her, polite enough to let her go first despite getting there second. “If you don’t mind me asking?” He added hastily, not wanting to invade the interesting girl’s privacy. 

The interesting girl who also had blonde locks and a smile to _die_ for.

“I went New Zealand, I’m heading back to New York. If they ever let me leave.” She said grudgingly, grabbing the plain black coffee, scrunching up her face at the bitterness, _definitely_ no iced caramel macchiato. 

“And you?” Lucas expertly choose buttons, more careful then her as once again the machine roared to life.

“Austin, Texas. One of my uncles got married and couldn’t pass up the chance to see the rest of my family.” Lucas slid on a plastic lid from a stack Maya was sure hadn’t been there a second ago, obviously this wasn’t his first rodeo.

_Was she already making Texas jokes? Someone save her._

“Did you get to wear cowboy boots and dance the Polka?” She asked with a laugh, walking back towards her seat, hoping he would follow.

Luckily, he gave a chuckle, taking the empty seat next to her.

“Maybe, are you going to take the subway when you get home, eat food off a street vendor?”

“No!” She protested, even if she had thought more then once about stopping to get tacos. Her voice carried, making the other six people look up and her glance around, noticing the cowboy didn’t have any suitcases with him.  
“Where’s your stuff?” She settled, resting slight against his arm, taking another sip of her harsh coffee.

‘It was a last minute flight. Everything was waiting for me when I got there. New York to Texas and back again.“ Lucas went on to talk about his trip, only ever taking his eyes off the blonde when he took a sip of coffee.

He told her about main the main events, the beautiful wedding dress his now-auntie Louise wore, seeing his cousins again and how much they’d grown and about getting to be the ring carrier. Maya vividly hung off every word, as if he was telling his travels from outer space and once he knew she wasn't simply listening to be polite, he told her the smaller details. How Louise had almost tripped down the aisle and everyone had held their breath, about his cousins who thought driving one of their parent’s cars whist intoxicated was an excellent idea, bringing up memories from long ago. He told about what his family was like, horrible barbecuing skills and who wore fake hair and in return she told him about her family.

About a bakery called Topanga's, a second home to her and her friends, countless afternoons spent wasting time around the warm atmosphere. Her best friend who lit up her world and got her first ever detention by refusing to dissect a frog in AP science, her other genius best friend who knew eight digits of pi but was allergic to the cherry kind. She went on about her family, her hardworking mother who deserved more then Maya could ever give her, a trait herself had learnt as she’d grown up and a man who wasn’t a father by blood but by soul, who bought her watercolors and always found his way in to their family photos. She spoke quietly about a man with a funny name who was anything but.

Her eyes began to droop as she described the whip cream incident of year 11, instinctively curling up next to Lucas, a tiny ball with her head rested on his shoulder and feet tucked under his thigh, sneakers long forgotten.

"Huckleberry, don’t you fall asleep on me.” She spoke up, closing her own eyes as sleep won her over, the last thing she heard was a deep laugh as they both fell asleep.

When she awoke to an empty seat she cursed herself for hoping he would still be there, blinking a few times to fully wake up.

Slipping on her shoes steadily, she heard the loud announcement which had caught her attention in the first place, a plane to New York she was going to miss if she didn’t move it. 

“Hurry up, you don’t want to miss the flight, do you?” A familiar southern accent spoke from above her, Lucas already lending a hand to carry one of her suitcases, the other carrying a white paper bad which smelt suspiciously of Tacos.

Lucas could see the reaction on the smaller girl’s face, her eyes widening as if he was a miracle worker.

“You were talking about tacos in your sleep, so I thought…” He trailed off, not exactly sure what to say, 'I thought we could eat them together and I could maybe get your number?’ maybe a bit too foreword. Although it seemed as if Maya had no problem.

“When we get on that plane, we are eating those tacos and you’re giving me your number so I can tell my friends I wrangled myself a cowboy!” Her Texas accent missed the mark completely and yet, Lucas found himself laughing anyway.

 


End file.
